view counter

 

Your guide to Chesaeake Country's freshest produce and more!

Letter from the Editor

Despite embarrassment, indignity and mess, animals are our family

The animals in our lives can get us in trouble. There’s a story circulating through the Bay Weekly office, and possible beyond, about Nipper’s appearance at a family picnic. It wasn’t Nipper’s family picnic.

So don’t quit trying to have too much fun

On Tuesday, August 24, school resumes in both Anne Arundel and Calvert counties, and it’s back to work for not only those tens of thousands of students but also for principals, teachers, counselors, librarians, cafeteria workers, custodians and school bus drivers.

Bay Weekly’s new and improved online edition gives you a voice

I’m writing these words on a screen, and it’s more likely than ever that’s where you’ll be reading them. Not that newspaper readers have abandoned print pages in their run to e-journalism. Millions are still print readers: 385 million people buy a newspaper each week, meaning we print-makers have, conservatively, one billion weekly readers. Count me among them.
Wonders happen in water. Capture water in a pool, and creatures can’t resist it. We gather in the liquid, and make magic. Here’s what I mean. Consider that the narrator and title character in the novel Life of Pi, named Piscine for swimming pool in French, devotes pages to second-hand elegies to the early 20th century swimming pools of Paris — despite sanitation far beneath the standards of modern pools. Consider that the Druid Hill and Patterson Park swimming pools of Baltimore have inspired the Fluid Movement performance troupe to nine years of water ballet.

The Choptank River piers named for him get you to where the big ones are

As Bay Weekly — which is also the name of the Albin 28 in which husband Bill Lambrecht and I fish and cruise — passed under the Choptank River Bridge and through the extended arms of the Bill Burton Fishing Piers, we saluted the Old Man of the Bay. But salty stories in his honor were interrupted by the shriek of an engine alarm. A clogged fuel filter sent us back to Cambridge. 
  Bill Burton wanted a windmill in his backyard. Not as decoration, and certainly not to chase away birds, for Bill was their dedicated friend. No, he wanted windmills because he believed our future depends on them as one no-longer optional choice we must make to save our planet.